


Green-Eyed Monster

by JeweledAnima



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Eventual Happy Ending, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Pining, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2019-11-16 01:17:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 18,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18084632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeweledAnima/pseuds/JeweledAnima
Summary: Saïx, deeply jealous of Axel's new friendships, continually goes to Xemnas to let his mind focus on something else.  Deep down, he just wants things back the way they were, wants Axel back, but they've both changed.





	1. Coming and Going

Saïx kept going back.  Sometimes he would wait, watching the shock of red disappear through the portal of darkness before he made his way, largely on instinct, to the high-arched door a few floors above; other times he would pointedly be absent for Axel’s departure, wandering the halls aimlessly and once more finding himself in the room that was not his.  

It had begun as a fluke, but had then grown to regularity—more out of routine than true desire (after all, true desire was lost to him).  First it was irregular, at low points few and far between when one or both of them was somehow put out.  It increased in frequency as the moon hanging in the sky grew brighter, as the ghosts of what should have been hurt and frustration plagued Saïx’s mind, as that shock of fiery red turned away from him more and more often.  Now, it was almost every day, around the same time, another notch on Saïx’s to-do list. The occasions themselves could differ in content, depending on the cyclical tendencies and moods that Saïx had grown accustomed to, but one fact remained the same: it was always Saïx who kept going back.  

The door would shut behind him, and sometimes he would simply wait at the desk that was not his until the proper moment.  Other times would begin scarcely after the door clicked shut. He would feel the rush of cool air as his heavy black coat fell open, would hold still as full lips played across his skin, as gloved hands toyed with his hair; he would bend and twist, sometimes with a band of leather heavy on his throat, the words in the air simply hanging, floating, but not entering his ears.  He would close his eyes, thinking of red hair, trying to remember what this was supposed to feel like. Fruitlessly he tried to fill the hole in his chest that had plagued his non-existence since its conception. Time and time again.

Saïx found himself there once again after a disappointing mission, after piles of unfinished paperwork, after a week without so much as a curt nod from the man he could not admit that he so dearly missed.  Axel had been spending more and more time with the keyblade wielders. Saïx had heard from Demyx that the three of them now gathered after missions, sharing ice cream and _laughing_ together.   _What did they have to laugh about?_  The image would have twisted his heart into knots had it been possible.  Saïx coolly assigned Demyx a brutal mission, spent a few hours stewing silently over poorly written reports, and, when most of the other members were out, once again scaled the stairs, arriving at the door that had become all too familiar.  Saïx knocked rather unnecessarily, and the deep voice of the superior invited him in without pause.

“Welcome back, Saïx.  Perfect timing, as always.”  Xemnas’s voice was smooth and chocolatey, and Saïx kept his gaze averted as he slipped through the door, drawing it closed behind him with practiced ease.  Xemnas was sitting at his desk, poring over a sheaf of papers the Dusks had brought by. He stood gracefully, drawing himself to his full formidable height, and he closed the distance between Saïx and himself.  He wasted no time tilting Saïx’s head upward, drawing his lips across Saïx’s exposed throat, his teeth catching on skin. Saïx let his mind go blank, turning himself completely over to Xemnas’s will, shedding his coat and baring the scarred surface of his chest to the sterile white of the room.  He didn’t want to think, so he came here, let himself feel the unique cocktail of pain and pleasure that Xemnas could so expertly concoct. He hoped he would be left with marks, with bruises above his collar, hoped Axel would see them and _understand._

When Saïx left, his body was sore and aching, his throat marred by purple marks for which he had allowed himself to beg.  He slipped into his shower, scrubbing aggressively as though the bitterness could be cleansed from his external flesh. Towel-drying his unkempt blue mane, he donned a new, clean black coat and allowed his battered body the reprieve of a few moment’s rest on the bed.  The aching of his body was a preferable object of focus to the aching where his heart should be.

As per usual, his moment of relative peace was interrupted by a curt knock on his door.  He stood silently, acutely aware of where he was sore. “Come in,” he said, voice flat, turning to steal a glance of the moon through the window.  If they succeeded, if they regained their hearts, would the ferocity of his feelings simply swallow him whole?

The door clicked open and shut, and a familiar voice met Saïx’s ears.  

“Hey, Demyx told me to drop off this report in person.”  Axel’s voice was guarded and more than a little suspicious.  Saïx’s eyes flashed. That was _not_ something he had asked Demyx to do.  He would take care of the half-rate musician later, but in the meantime, he had to take care of _this._

“And you listened to something that moron had to say?” Saïx’s speech was cold as his gaze fell upon Axel.  He straightened, drawing his damp hair behind his shoulders. Something flashed in Axel’s eyes as they caught a glimpse of the angry marks that marred the smooth flesh of Saïx’s throat, but he didn’t comment.    

“Hey, I’d rather not tick you off.  He said you needed to talk to me.” A feeling akin to rage bloomed in Saïx’s chest.  That little shit.

“Where was your mission today?” Saïx said, avoiding Axel’s remark.

“Twilight Town,” Axel said cautiously, taking a seat on Saïx’s bed.  “Here’s that report.”

Saïx took the sloppy sheaf of papers, pretending to read them.  “You’ve failed to mention your continual stops for ice cream.”       

Axel looked briefly alarmed, then rolled his eyes.  “Seems like Demyx just can’t keep his mouth shut lately.  Listen, will it kill ya to relax? We all deserve a break now and then.”

“It seems you’ve grown quite attached to Roxas and the new puppet.”

“Yeah, sure, we hang out and grab ice cream after missions.  Who cares what we do in our free time? We still get our work done.”  Axel was sprawled across the bed now, always catlike in his movements, his fingers laced together behind his head.  He always did tread the narrow line between ease and danger. Saïx glowered at him, frustration bubbling beneath his even expression.

“You’re forgetting your priorities.”  Saïx’s gaze was chilly, and Axel was lucky he could stare back with such fire.  

“What priorities?  Why does this even matter to you?”  Axel’s tone was accusatory, and he sat upright, peering up at Saïx from beneath a furrowed brow.  Saïx couldn’t keep his nostrils from flaring slightly. _What about me, Axel?  What about us?_ he wanted to say, but his pride wouldn’t let the words pass his lips.

“We have our own plans, Axel,” Saïx replied frigidly.  “You’re letting these new _friends_ get in the way.”

“Am I?” Axel shot back, his eyes flashing with anger.  “So what you’re saying is that I shouldn’t be getting ice cream with my buddies, and meanwhile you’re here _fucking our boss?_ ”  

At that, Saïx’s pale face finally flushed.  “Get out of my room.”

Axel smiled humorlessly, rising from the bed and drawing himself to his full height.  “Gotcha there, huh?”

Saïx averted his gaze.  He couldn’t bear looking into those striking green eyes, couldn’t handle the disgust and frustration that dwelled within them.   _You don’t understand a thing, do you?_ he thought, his face burning.  “I said _get out._ ”  

There was a scoff from Axel.  “Fine. Just get off my case. I won’t stop you from letting Xemnas use your neck as a chew toy, so leave Roxas, Xion, and me alone.  At least we aren’t all _sleeping together._ ”  His voice dripped bitter sarcasm, and, Saïx thought with a glimmer of what may have been gratification, perhaps hurt.  He turned to leave, shaking his head, but before he reached the door, Saïx had outstretched his hand, gripping Axel by the wrist.

“Lea.  Wait.”

Axel spun around in irritation.  He was a good few inches taller than Saïx, and he glared down at the other Nobody when he spoke.  “You just told me to get out, _Isa._ Make up your mind.”  For a few moments longer, they stared each other down, Saïx’s fingers still gripped around Axel’s thin wrist.  To Saïx’s grim satisfaction, there was indeed a particular injury in Axel’s emerald eyes, and that fact made him bold.  He had to _know._  Axel had to _understand._  

Within a heartbeat that wasn’t there, he closed the distance between the two of them and planted a cold kiss on Axel’s lips.  Axel froze, but didn’t withdraw. He simply held still, and Saïx drew back, empty, his golden gaze piercing. He let himself stay perfectly cool and even, though his mind was racing.

“So that’s it, huh,” Axel murmured, turning away, his brow deeply furrowed.  Saïx could no longer see Axel’s eyes, but that voice belaid the curious sense of hurt they weren’t supposed to feel.  “What, do you just sleep with anyone you’re trying to get something out of?”

Frustration welled in Saïx like a spring, and he almost lost his cool, almost let the moon’s power take him.  Steeling himself, he pulled Axel’s face back to look upon his own. “I’ve done Demyx an injustice by declaring him the densest member of our Organization.  I seem to have misplaced my judgment.”

“What are you going to do,” Axel said dully, “turn me into a dusk before I can tell everyone you’re Xemnas’s plaything?”  

“You wouldn’t,” Saïx said softly, this time not looking Axel in the eyes.   _Why can’t you see,_ he thought, willing every ounce of his energy in Axel’s direction.   _It’s not him.  It’s never been him.  It’s always been you._  “You know as well as I do that such a rumor would be a detriment for both of us.”  

“Ever the pragmatist,” Axel drawled, pulling his wrist free from Saïx’s forgotten grasp.  He turned to leave once again, but Saïx grabbed his other wrist, face burning once more. _Why did things have to be this way?_

“What _is_ it, Isa?” Axel spat, spinning to face Saïx once more.  Saïx, within his normally-impassive golden eyes, laid bare the plea he had kept hidden, the wordless desperation he felt but could not bring himself to verbalize.  Finally, with that look, with the way Saïx gripped his wrist, Axel understood.

“Oh, I get it,” said Axel, voice soft and bitter.  “You’re jealous. That’s the reason for all of this, isn’t it?”

Saïx didn’t speak.  He just turned to look out the window once more, eyes alighting on the moon.  “Leave,” he said at length, once again impassive.

Axel exhaled sharply in what may have been an almost-laugh.  “Whatever you say. I’ll tell Demyx you said hi.” Saïx’s silence remained stony until he heard his door shut, Axel’s footsteps retreating away.  At last, he sank onto his bed, burying his face in his hands, his blue hair falling around them like a curtain.

Jealousy.  So there it was.  A Nobody with no heart, no feelings, and yet jealousy had coursed through him like a poison each time he caught sight of Roxas and Axel chatting in the Grey Area, each time Axel scolded him for the way he described the puppet, each time he felt the two of them drifting apart.  Jealousy had driven him to Xemnas’s arms in some blind hope that it would spread to Axel, and it was jealousy that had begged for the bite marks that riddled his neck and the soreness between his legs.

At least now, Axel knew.  


	2. Fire and Ice

“You have not been yourself of late, my pet.”  Xemnas’ cool observation seemed somehow out of place in the colorless room.  He was lounging upright against the pillows, and Saïx was curled up at his side, his hand placed listlessly on the breadth of Xemnas’ bare chest.  

“What do you mean, sir?”  Saïx’s voice, though emotionless, carried a croaking quality.  He had just had his throat sorely abused, and the taste of Xemnas still lingered on his lips.  

Xemnas gave a deep hum, massaging his thumb in circles on Saïx’s shoulder.  “Your visits have been much more… sporadic. Has your focus been drawn elsewhere?” A mild danger underlined Xemnas’ deep voice, and Saïx mulled over his thoughts for a moment.  

“My workload has increased considerably since our losses at Castle Oblivion,” Saïx replied.  “And Demyx’s field reports get poorer by the day.”

“Do I detect a touch of complaint in your voice, number seven?”  Xemnas wrapped his fingers around Saïx’s shoulder, squeezing softly.  

“Not at all,” Saïx responded evenly.  “You simply asked why it was that our visitations have become... less regular.”  He shifted slightly, aligning his body so that it was pressed closer to Xemnas’ bulky frame.  Did he truly enjoy his consorts with his superior, or were they simply a means of self-flagellation?  He wasn’t sure of the answer himself.

It was true that Saïx had a lot on his plate at the moment, delicately trying to balance his place as second in command with his goals of overthrowing the man at his side.  But now there was a new force gnawing at him. Since their unfortunate encounter, Axel had begun avoiding Saïx entirely. When they did have some form of exchange, Axel’s demeanor was guarded beneath a veneer of bitter disgust.  Saïx did not hesitate to snap right back, to deride and insult. He knew he was only driving the stake that was splitting them apart deeper when he treated Axel’s newfound companions so viciously, but his flaming jealousy, veiled beneath his frigid exterior, was all-consuming.  Now, even Xemnas had noticed something was amiss.

“Perhaps another of our number has caught your attention more than I?” Xemnas probed, peering down at Saïx with those honey-colored eyes.  Saïx couldn’t quite tell whether his voice carried simple curiosity or earnest danger.

“Not in the least.” Saïx hadn't skipped a beat.  “None of them can offer me what you can.”

Xemnas laughed, a deep rumbling sound that resounded in Saïx’s core.  “Pretty words,” he said. “What layers do they hold, I wonder?”

“You overthink too much, sir,” Saïx said, drawing himself upright and sliding into Xemnas’ lap.  Faint disgust at himself knotted in his belly, but he ignored it. “Let me show you once more where my loyalties lie, and perhaps then you’ll forgive my intermittent absence of late.”

~*~

Saïx later found himself wandering through the dark city below the castle.  The air here was clear, and the streets were dark, lit only by neon blues and warm yellows.  Every so often, Saïx indulged himself in one of these city walks—few of the other members ever wandered down here, and here he could be alone with his thoughts.  The great heart-shaped moon, ever an object of Saïx’s fascination, had steadily grown in size, its light shining brighter with each passing day.  The gaping hole in its center was shrinking slowly but steadily, faint glimmers of hearts rising to it like balloons let go by an inattentive child.  Saïx basked beneath its rays like a cat in the sun, turning his scarred face towards it as though it would wash away the dull pain that plagued his body and mind.  

So dearly did he want to be whole again.  So dearly did he ache for a heart to fill the hole in his chest, to allow him to feel to the depths he could recall from his life as a Somebody.  Perhaps, once that happened, he would be able to sort through the curiously burgeoning feelings that had begun to flit through him, whispers of emotions he tried to deny to himself.  There, beneath the moon, Saïx wished with all his being for a heart, whole and complete.

Distracted, he was taken by surprise by a rogue neoshadow that had sprung at him from the shadow of a skyscraper, its claws raking across his back and tearing the cloth of his coat.  Snarling, Saïx withdrew his claymore, annoyedly striking the Heartless into oblivion. He had sustained no injury—he was much stronger than a wild Heartless—but his reverie had been unduly interrupted and there was a new jagged hole in his coat.  

Conjuring up a portal of darkness in a huff, Saïx stepped into his room and removed the coat. He cursed.  It had been torn beyond repair, and by some foolish, insignificant little creature, no less—a fact that irked him deeply.  And now he was out of fresh clothes.

Bundling his other dirty coats in his arms, he slipped down the hall to the washing machines, throwing the garments inside and slamming the door shut.  As he made to leave, he nearly ran headfirst into a tall, lithe figure carrying a basket of similarly soiled clothing.

“Someone’s in a bad mood,” Axel said, tossing his own coats into another machine without meeting Saïx’s eyes.  

“A Heartless tore my last good coat,” Saïx muttered.  He was acutely aware of the fact that his chest was still bare, its surface marred in manners that he would not have wished Axel, of all people, to see.

As Axel straightened, his machine now thrumming, he at last laid eyes on Saïx.  His eyes widened at first, almost in concern, before he raised a thin brow, realization dawning.  “And how’s our boss treating you, Isa? Not too gently, it looks like.”

Saïx folded his arms.  “It’s none of your concern.”

“Sure it is,” quipped Axel, placing his hands on his hips.  “Isn’t this where I should lecture you about _keeping your priorities straight?_ ”

Saïx’s nostrils flared almost imperceptibly, the only sign that he was anything but perfectly, icily, unphased.  “You know perfectly well where my priorities lie.” He spoke in earnest, bitter though his words seemed. He knew that Axel could see the way he was being eaten up inside.  Or did he? At one point, he and Lea had been nearly symbiotic, each attuned to the other perfectly.  Now, Saïx wasn’t so sure.  The memory of their one-sided kiss tingled on Saïx's lips.

“Do I?” Axel’s green gaze was intense, guarded.  Saïx turned away, sighing shortly.

“For how often you tell others to get things memorized, you certainly seem to forget them quickly, yourself,” he said, voice softer now, though it still carried an icy edge.  

Axel grumbled, running a hand through his wild red spikes before he changed the subject.  “Hey. Some of those bruises look pretty nasty. You sure you’re okay?”

Saïx hated the gentleness that had spread gingerly through Axel’s voice.  Or did he love it? Perhaps he was merely distressed by it. Whatever it was, he couldn't stand it.  “Of course I am.”

Axel huffed and shook his head in exasperation.  “Whatever.”

Saïx knew he was getting nowhere.  He knew, as Axel slipped past him with a furrowed brow, that he was pathetic at communicating his innermost thoughts.   _Why can't you just open yourself to him?_ he asked himself, watching as Axel left down the hallway.  Steeling himself, Saïx made to go after him, to say _something_ , but he stopped dead at the sight of Axel meeting up with Roxas at the end of the hall.  Saïx caught sight of Axel's particular crooked smile when Roxas said something that made him laugh, and he turned away sharply.   _That's why.  It's because you've been replaced._

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um, the laundry room that never was exists, right?


	3. Sticks and Stones

Roxas had defected.  Xemnas was frustrated.  Axel was distressed. Saïx was struck by all of it.  The Organization’s plans had relied so heavily on the Keyblade wielder, dislike him though Saïx did.  He had to be tracked down. Naturally, Axel had been chosen for the task, considering his…  _ personable  _ relationship with Roxas before the latter’s defection.  A part of Saïx stung when he saw the listless way Axel paced, too many popsicle sticks in his gloved hand.  For some reason, Axel always carried three. Saïx felt there was a reason, but could not remember what it was.

Saïx entered the Grey Area.  Xigbar was sprawled across one of the sofas, Demyx was re-tuning his sitar for what seemed like the twentieth time, and Axel was pacing again.  

“Give it a rest, will you?” drawled Xigbar, rolling his eyes and stretching one of his legs across the arm of the sofa.  Saïx didn’t much care for him.

“Hey, I just got new strings, man,” said Demyx, “they keep slipping.”

“Not you, moron.  Flamesilocks over there is giving me a headache, walking back and forth like that.”  

Axel scowled, coming to a pause near the window, gaze lighting upon Saïx.  “I’ve got some headaches of my own to worry about, thanks.”

“Axel,” said Saïx, “a word.”

Demyx grinned.  “Someone’s busted!”

“The only thing getting busted is that guitar over your head if you don’t shut up,” snipped Xigbar, Demyx indignantly correcting him on his instrument’s build with little thought for the threat.  Saïx nodded towards the hall and Axel, glowering, followed him.

“What is it this time?” he grumbled, leaning back against the wall, the red of his hair stark against the white.

Saïx picked an invisible piece of lint from the sleeve of his coat.  “Xemnas has orders for you.” 

Axel snorted.  “What, he couldn't tell me himself?”

“Our superior is a busy man,” Saïx said levelly.  “You would do well to remember that.”

“Not too busy to leave hickies where the sun doesn't shine,” Axel muttered, folding his arms.  

Saïx glared at him coldly.  “It's about Roxas.”

“Really?  Do we know where he's gone?”  Axel's entire attitude had shifted within a millisecond, his face visibly brightening and something that looked like hope burgeoning in his bright eyes.  Saïx almost wanted to strike him for it. 

“Yes.  You are to track him down and bring him back.  If he doesn't comply, you are to eliminate him.  Xemnas’ orders.” 

Axel's face fell as quickly as it had brightened.  “It's always the icky jobs with me, isn't it?”

“You knew him best,” said Saïx, veiling the bitterness that crept into his voice.  “The Superior believes that, out of all of us, you have the highest chance of bringing Roxas and his keyblade back to us.”

“I'll get Roxas back,” Axel said with newfound determination.  “He's not going anywhere while I'm around.”

“You haven't done the best job of that, Lea,” Saïx said cruelly, “considering he ran away and it's taken us this long to track him down.”  He knew his comment would do no good for either of them, but he let it slip free anyway. He wanted to deflect his own hurt onto someone that wasn’t himself, even though he knew doing so would come back to bite him.  Perhaps that was  _ why.   _ He had always had a streak of self-destruction.

Axel looked like he wanted to throw Saïx off the balcony. “I can't believe we used to be  _ friends.”   _ With his snarling remark, he conjured a portal and stepped into it before Saïx could say anything more, disappearing into the darkness with a huff.  

_ Used to be.   _ Of course it was past tense.  Saïx knew Axel had long since replaced him.  And yet his words had cut deep, their finality stinging Saïx in ways he hadn't felt since he was whole and human.  Why couldn't he just let  _ go? _  Or why couldn't Axel simply be his again?  He remembered the warmth of Axel’s lips on his own, though they had not kissed back.  He wished so badly to have something, anything, reciprocated, and though he bitterly blamed Axel for moving on and leaving him and their goals in the dust, he knew that his own vindictive nature had been the nail in their coffin.  So why couldn’t he move on? Saïx wanted to beat his head against the wall until it bled, wanted to tear and rip his own flesh so that he could feel something  _ else,  _ something that didn't hurt the way this did. 

He made his way once more to Xemnas's chambers, waited there splayed and bare on the superior's bed until Xemnas returned and relished in the surprise.  Saïx distantly felt  _ something  _ as he let himself be shackled to the bedpost, as Xemnas played with him as a cat would a mouse.  He gave himself over to the pain and mindless pleasure as he writhed in Xemnas’ grip, his body bearing the brunt of Xemnas’ strength and frustration.  Afterwards, when Xemnas was finished, Saïx allowed himself the luxury of falling asleep in his arms. He tried to imagine the smell of singed hair and sea salt ice cream.

~*~

Saïx awoke miserably, his head throbbing and his body sore and tight.  He groaned, standing from his bed with some difficulty, and drew himself up before the mirror.  He looked like a wreck and desperately needed a shower. His hair was tangled and his lips were still slightly swollen; bruises were concentrated at his hips and throat, a few bite marks here and there.  He was grateful their uniform covered so much, because Xemnas was very fond of using his teeth. Xemnas himself was nowhere to be found, and Saïx gingerly donned his own discarded and now-wrinkled clothes before slipping silently out of the room and into the hall.  He was too tired to bother creating a portal.

“Hey, have you seen —” The voice that met Saïx's ears was the second to last one he would have liked to hear at that moment.  “You're not Xemnas. Good grief, man, what happened to you? You look like you got hit by a bus.”

Saïx turned slowly to face Demyx, his eyes dangerous.  “Did you have something to say to our superior?” he said with a voice like ice.  Demyx raised his hands in deference.

“Whoa there, it can wait,” he said, eyes wide.  “Seriously, what happened? Are those— Dude, are those bite marks?”  

“If you don't want to be turned into a Dusk,” Saïx growled, “I suggest turning around, leaving, and finishing those reports I know you've been procrastinating.”  Demyx scurried away, never one for confrontation.  Saïx groaned internally at the undeniable fact that Demyx would eagerly recount a description of Saïx’s disheveled state to Xigbar and the others, who would snicker behind their closed doors.  Scowling, he returned to his room and spent a long time showering and freshening up. 

Once his shaggy hair had dried and his skin had been scrubbed clean of all stickiness, he headed to the Grey Area, purchasing an elixir from the hooded moogle and downing it in a few gulps.  No one else was there; at one point, when their ranks were fuller, such would have been unheard of. Now, however, he sometimes found it empty, and he seated himself on one of the armchairs, hoping for a moment’s reprieve.  As he sat, he felt something snap beneath his weight. Closing his eyes and sighing, hoping it had been nothing important, he reached beneath himself to withdraw a popsicle stick, split in two. On it was the word “Winner.”


	4. Past and Present

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're going to start getting into KH3 spoiler territory from here on out, just as a warning.

Saïx hadn’t meant to find Axel there.  He had been on another of his city walks, clearing his head, when he turned a corner and spotted that familiar flaming hair.  Axel was seated on some steps, hands folded in his lap, and his face was obscured from view. As Saïx approached, he heard a sniffing sound that he had not heard in a long while.   So Axel was crying, then.

“You know we aren’t supposed to do that,” Saïx said quietly, and Axel’s head snapped up.  There was… sorrow on his face. Saïx didn’t know what to make of it.  Neither of them should have been feeling like this.

“I can’t have a moment alone without you showing up to tell me what I can and can’t do, huh?” Axel had tried to instill his voice with his usual bravado, but it still held a fragility that Saïx didn’t like to hear.  Without asking, Saïx seated himself at Axel’s side, taking his chin in his fingers and gently turning Axel’s face towards him. Sure enough, the tell-tale streaks of rogue tears shone on Axel’s cheeks. Axel made an irritated sound, tearing his face away from Saïx’s hand.  “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“I could ask the same of you,” Saïx replied, crossing his legs.  “Weren’t you supposed to be tracking down Roxas?”

“Yeah, and I did a fine job of it,” Axel shot back, wiping his eyes roughly.  “I found him.”

“I take it things didn’t go as planned.”

Axel scoffed.  “Do you see him anywhere?  No, it didn’t turn out the way I’d hoped.  You guys were right about his memory having been wiped.”

Saïx was silent.  Part of him relished in the failure, thinking _now you see what it’s like to be forgotten_.  The other part of him, the sliver that still had green eyes and was called Isa, didn't enjoy seeing Axel look so crushed.  Tears didn’t suit those bright eyes. Saïx extended his hand once more, this time lightly tapping one of Axel’s under-eye markings with a gloved fingertip.  “Remember what I told you when we first awoke like this?” he said, his golden gaze lingering on Axel’s emerald one. “About the upside-down tears.”

“Yeah, I remember,” muttered Axel.  “Just… gimme a sec here, alright?” Saïx peered off into the alley, and they sat together in silence for what felt like eternity.  

At length, Axel spoke.  “Hey,” he said slowly, turning his face away.  “I haven’t forgotten about you. I know you think I have, but I haven’t.  I don’t up and forget stuff like that, you know.”

Saïx remained quiet for a moment, his face impassive.  “What makes you say that?”

Sighing, Axel said, “I know you’re jealous, and I know you won’t admit it.  I know we just don’t get along anymore, that things didn’t turn out for us the way we thought they would when we were kids.  But don’t you think for one second that I’ve _forgotten_ anything.”  

 _Why_ don’t _we get along anymore, I wonder?_ thought Saïx, toying with the hem of his sleeve.  _We started this together, after all._   Finally, he said, “I believe you,” lacing his fingers together and settling them on his knee.  Indeed, he did believe Axel. He knew that he hadn’t been forgotten outright.  Axel’s memory was too keen for that.  But that didn’t change the fact that he felt utterly left behind, abandoned, replaced. Perhaps it would have been easier if Axel had earnestly forgotten him, the way Roxas had.  Instead, Saïx thought bitterly, they were left with all the baggage inflicted by memory.

Axel made a grumbling sound, readjusting his position on the steps with a sigh.  “I could use an ice cream.”

“It’s a marvel you stay so skinny, considering the egregious nature of your diet,” said Saïx dryly, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth.  “You certainly don’t exercise enough, considering all that junk food you eat.”

Axel snorted.  “Man, have you always been such a jerk?” he snarked, running his fingers through the spikes of his hair.  “I guess I was always distracted from it by how much I used to like you.”

The smile faded from Saïx’s lips.  There was that past tense again. _Used to._ He already knew it at this point, knew the two of them were a thing of the past, but that didn’t mean it stung any less.  _Why did it sting?  He wasn't supposed to feel that._   “I suppose so,” he said, voice once again flatlining.

Another pause.  There had been a time when the two of them could shoot the breeze for hours over the most inane nonsense, laughing and smiling.  How things had changed.  How Saïx wished they hadn't. He wished they had never met their other friend, the girl, Xehanort's lab rat; wished they had never apprenticed themselves in hopes of finding her; wished they could have lived out their lives side-by-side, at the very least as friends.  But life had a way of bowling on in ways one didn't always appreciate.  Here they were now, cold and biting, Axel with someone else in Saïx's place, Saïx sleeping with the man that had caused them both such strife, neither of them happy.

As if they could be anyway, without their hearts.

“Hey,” Axel said, at last breaking their silence.  “Why do you do it?”

“Do what?” Saïx gave no inclination towards his inner thoughts.

“You know.  The whole thing with Xemnas.  I don't get it,” murmured Axel, looking up at the moon.  “You're so ticked off about my being friends with Roxas, then you go off and do who knows what with our boss.  I just don't get it.”

Saïx felt hot and cold all at once.  “Those two things are not the same,” he responded, avoiding further explanation.

“No shit, I don't sleep with Roxas.  But you know what I mean.”

Saïx re-crossed his legs, focusing his gaze on a dimly lit window in the distance.  “You… enjoy your time with Roxas. There's the difference.”

Axel's eyes widened.  “Xemnas hasn't been forcing you, has he?  That's low, even for him.”  Saïx was surprised to hear genuine concern in his voice.

Sighing deeply, Saïx said, “No.  I'm the one who always goes back.”

“You still haven't explained why.”   

“Why are you friends with Roxas?”  Saïx was always careful to avoid a straight answer.  It was a talent of his that had driven Lea crazy when they were young.

Axel threw up his hands in exasperation.  “You just said they were different things!”

Saïx chuckled.  “You've scarcely changed, after all.  You were always slow on the uptake.”

“And you always assume people know what you're talking about, even when you make no sense,” grumbled Axel.  Saïx noticed that his tears had dried.

Axel exhaled, closing his eyes and turning his face upward.  “Look what’s become of us, Isa.”

Saïx remained silent.   _I know.  I hate it._ He simply looked at Axel’s face, its rosy tones and high angles, the purple marks under his eyes.  When Axel opened his eyes, Saïx looked at them, too, as if trying to memorize their bright green hues, their catlike shape accentuated by well-practiced wings.  He knew he had missed Axel terribly, but hadn’t realized how much he had missed _this,_ just gazing at Axel’s striking features.  Even when they were young, he had always found his friend beautiful, though he had always been too shy and proud to admit it.  

“I should go,” Saïx said, his quiet voice abrupt in the silence.  He stood, brushing himself off and tearing his gaze away from Axel’s face.  Drawing out this moment, though he wished to, simply wouldn’t do.  He had work to attend to.

“Me too,” replied Axel, and Saïx sensed a newfound gravity in his voice.  Something told him they wouldn’t be having another moment like this for a long while.


	5. Night and Day

“Saïx.”  Xemnas’ voice, calm and cool, ran like a dark river—beautiful and smooth at first glance, but one couldn’t tell what swam beneath its depths.  “A word in my office.”

“Of course,” Saïx responded evenly.  Xemnas rarely came to the Grey Area.  This must have been a matter of grave importance.  

Demyx didn’t seem to see it that way, snickering and nudging Xigbar, who rolled his eyes before giving Saïx a knowing look.  Saïx shot an icy glance in Demyx’s direction before he followed Xemnas into the awaiting dark portal, the two of them stepping out into the spacious, yet untidy room Xemnas called his office.  Idly, Saïx began to organize the papers that littered Xemnas’ desk as the superior took a seat.

“I’ve missed you,” Xemnas said, false sensitivity lacing his voice.  

“We both know that isn’t possible, sir,” Saïx replied flatly, tucking a sheaf of papers into a discarded folder.  Xemnas chuckled in response.

“How true.  Still, for someone as fastidious and regular as yourself, I couldn’t help but notice your unusual absence from my chambers of late.  This has led me to believe something is amiss.”

It was true.  Saïx hadn’t had one of his… visits with Xemnas since Axel deserted.  It had been the final indication that Axel had wholly chosen Roxas over him, and Saïx, in a sense, had shut down.  The plans the two of them had formulated together had all but been tossed out the window, and though Saïx had reached the position he had been striving for, he now felt that he had lost his sense of purpose, his drive.  Now, he was truly alone, and for the first time, he was grateful for the dead nature of his emotions.

Since Axel had left and Sora had awoken, Saïx had shut himself off even more than before, no longer outright seeking carnal distractions.  Instead, he threw himself into his work, manipulating the young Sora, growing Kingdom Hearts, trying to thwart Axel’s plans of regaining Roxas.  Though he had his orders from Xemnas about all of it anyway, he particularly relished in the latter task.

Xemnas was not cognizant of this particular strain of Saïx’s thought.  He had, however, been correct in his assumption of a change in Saïx, and his keen gaze suggested he had noticed the alignment of Axel’s desertion and Saïx’s relative absence.  When he spoke, he confirmed as much. “Something tells me this has to do with Axel. You two were close as humans, yes?”

Xemnas was impossible to read, so Saïx tread very carefully.  “As humans only. We… grew apart quickly after joining your ranks.”  He expertly stifled the distant pang in his chest when he admitted as much aloud.  He didn’t even admit to himself that he had felt it.

Xemnas leaned back in his chair, folding his hands leisurely.  Where the rest of the Organization constantly played at emotions, Xemnas rarely did.  He was always perfectly cold, calculating, impassive. His handsome face never betrayed his thoughts, but his striking, almost feminine eyes could pierce into another’s within seconds.  Saïx, though self-assured in his security as Xemnas’ right hand, still often found himself daunted when faced with that golden stare. For now, Saïx felt the need to proceed this conversation with caution.  He wasn’t yet sure of its precise cause nor its intended effect; Xemnas tended to reach his points in decidedly roundabout manners.  It could mean anything.

Saïx went for a familiar approach.  “Are there any doubts of yours I can assuage, sir?” he said smoothly, adopting an open posture that could be regarded as submissive.  

“You will forgive my apprehension,” Xemnas replied, that penetrating gaze raking over Saïx’s body.  “The Organization has seen its fair share of betrayal as of late. I would hate to see you follow a similar path.”

“Such fears are absurd, superior,” Saïx said, lowering his face and cocking his head to the side just slightly.  He looked up at Xemnas through his dense lashes, splaying his hands lightly on the desk. He wasn’t in the mood for this, but he had to cover his bases.  “I’ve had a high workload lately, as you can expect. I appreciate your trust in my dealings with the Keyblade wielder.”

Xemnas smiled, a toothy grin that would have sent shudders down Saïx’s spine had he not been used to it.  Something animalistic glinted in Xemnas’ auric eyes, and he stood up in a flash. Before Saïx could blink, he found himself pinned to the wall, his throat swallowing hard beneath the pressure of Xemnas’ gloved hand.  So this was how the day was going to go.

“I know you’ve thought of Axel before during our little sessions,” he whispered in Saïx’s ear, voice inhumanly flat considering his physical roughness.  “You’ve said his name.”

Saïx wriggled only slightly beneath Xemnas’ tightening grip, sputtering, “Sir, I assure you, I—”

“Hush,” Xemnas murmured, silencing Saïx with a squeeze.  Water welled in the corners of Saïx’s eyes as his windpipe was constricted, but he kept his hands at his side, easily fighting the instinct to raise them.  He had learned quickly that Xemnas preferred submission.

“I can forgive you,” said Xemnas evenly, lips brushing the outer shell of Saïx’s ear.  “But I need to hear you cry my name, first. Not Axel’s.”

“Of course, my lord,” Saïx managed, drawing in a choked breath.  He had long since discerned that of whatever went on inside Xemnas’ mind, a part of it played at enjoying elevated honorifics.

Xemnas’ kiss was cold and emotionless, simply a motion, and Saïx returned it the same way.  It was nothing like the kiss he had pressed to Axel’s lips so long ago, though it was only slightly more unfulfilling.  Saïx simply went through the familiar steps, Xemnas playing with him like a toy, pulling Saïx’s coat from his shoulders and letting it fall to the ground.  Xemnas was never tender, but was even less so today; Saïx’s body was bearing the physical impact of the misstep he had not realized he had made. So Axel’s name had fallen from his lips during one of his times with Xemnas.  He had not been careful enough, and Xemnas, with his rough touch, was making him pay the price. Yet his mind had been trained to wander, and it found Axel somewhere in the distance, conjured up his image, recalled memories of younger, happier days.  

Once, when they had been young, before they started thinking about sneaking into the castle, Lea had stayed the night at Isa's place.  Lea's home life had always been rather rocky, and Isa hadn't hesitated to have a space prepared for those times Lea didn't want to head home.  That night, Lea had bashfully asked if Isa would stay beside him, and Isa, in a heartbeat, had said yes, though he made certain to jibe Lea for it.  He had loved Lea so dearly even then, though it was in the innocent, guileless way of youth. After the two of them settled on the mattress Isa had set up in his living room, Lea had drifted off to sleep in moments.  

Saïx remembered the way he had felt that night, lying on his side and looking at Lea's peaceful, sleeping features.  He remembered the curious knots that tied and untied themselves in his chest, the butterflies fluttering in the pit of his belly as Lea snored.  He remembered how he had allowed only the tip of his nose to touch Lea's upper arm when they slept, daring nothing more. Even then, in easier days, he had been too shy, too apprehensive to let Lea in on the feelings that had coursed through his heart.  

It was too late, now.  He had no heart to lay bare.  And yet those innocent feelings he remembered so clearly had found themselves warped, poisoned by jealousy, their memory defiled by mistakes, change, circumstance.  Saïx was here now, in the sterile white office, a man he felt nothing for using his body, growling at Saïx to use his name. Saïx did so, a veneer of false desire cast over his voice.  He lay spread-eagled across the desk, his small improvements to Xemnas’ filing system now strewn across the floor, and he remained there after Xemnas withdrew, panting heavily. He felt nothing as he pushed himself upright, the familiar sore ache coursing through his body once again.  Xemnas was smiling coldly, and he pulled Saïx in for another empty kiss.

“That's better,” he purred into Saïx's pointed ear, unceremoniously letting Saïx drop back onto the desk.  “Do not forget where your loyalties lie, number seven.”

Saïx cast his gaze towards the plain ceiling.  “Doing so is not in my nature, sir.”


	6. Love and Hate

Sora was easy to toy with.  He had a tender heart, and tender hearts are easily wounded.  Saïx pressed this to his advantage, spinning his soft-spoken words with poison, watching confusion and uncertainty bloom on the boy’s face.   _We still know how to injure a heart,_ Saïx had told him, relishing in the way Sora’s brow knit with anger and concern.  Indeed, Saïx had become well-practiced in the art of verbal injury. He had long thought in great detail of what he wanted to say to Axel, the spoken beating that would make everything clear between the two of them—yet, every time they met, the precise words died on Saïx’s lips.  He stayed cold, unable to tap into the scorching heat that radiated from the man who had once been his friend.

There had been a few times the two had crossed paths after Axel’s desertion.  Venomous words were spat, chakrams thrown, claymore drawn, and not an ounce of progress was made in any possible direction beyond frustration.  Saïx had, however, captured Kairi from Axel, a valuable tool to use against the Keyblade wielder—but he was also sharply aware that Axel was acting with an express and single purpose: turning Sora into a heartless again to get Roxas back.

So, when Saïx heard that Axel had sacrificed himself, had burned himself into oblivion to save Sora’s life, Saïx was stunned.  Xigbar had brought him the news, brash as always, dropping the bomb like it was no more than the weather. _“Did you hear?  Dear old Axel turned himself into toast for the keyblade brat.  Yep, he’s gone for good this time. Another one bites the dust, huh?”_

Saïx had reacted with his usual chilly attitude, offering no more than a face of acknowledgment, but distant in the pit of his belly was… _something._ He wrote it off as unaffected disappointment in Axel’s weakness, in his repeated thwarting of Saïx’s plans.  But as he returned to his office, he found that his knees no longer wanted to carry him. He slumped into his chair, feeling cold, deathly cold.  He shivered. That was it, then. It was over. Axel was gone. Saïx had never _told_ him anything.  So much remained unsaid.  He wanted to scream at Axel, right then, wanted to watch those slender brows furrow in guilt.   _I hate you,_ he would shout, hands balled in Axel’s coat so that green gaze couldn’t turn away.   _I hate you.  I miss you. I want you back.  Why did you do this to me? I love you._

This wouldn’t do.  He couldn’t allow himself to be like this, to be _weakened_ by loss.  Saïx knew that he couldn’t feel, that he _shouldn’t._ So what was this bitter ache?  What was this anger, rage, _hurt?_ He remembered Castle Oblivion, how he had thought Axel may have met his demise there.  He remembered the anxiety, the restless sleep, but it was nothing like this. Saïx felt hollow; not in his usual way, devoid of a heart, but like he had been gutted deliberately.  Frozen at his desk, fists balled, he stared at a blank space on the wall.

He had to focus.  Kingdom Hearts was almost finished.  He was so close to a heart of his own—a heart that would let him truly exist, _truly_ feel, not just these ghosts of emotion and memory.  So he told himself. A Nobody could not hurt. _So why did he?_

~*~

“I thought I’d get a little enjoyment watching Axel throw one last tantrum, but he went a lot quieter than I thought.”  Xigbar’s voice resounded through the Round Room, landing on the ears of the few who remained. Saïx stewed in silence.

“Perhaps he was ready for it,” Luxord mused with his usual unaffected ease.  “Perhaps he put his existence on the line, and won what he was looking for.” Anger flared within Saïx, but his expression offered no sign of it.

Luxord and Xigbar bickered for a moment over the nature of their non-existence, but Luxord remained blasé, insisting that regardless of their state of being, Axel had come out a winner.  “Oh, Axel,” he said with faux fondness, “a grifter till the end.”

Saïx finally snapped.  “That’s absurd,” he spat, his soft voice venomous.  “He won nothing, and _is_ nothing.  He couldn’t stand the emptiness of being without a heart, and _that_ led to his demise.  He was foolish, and _weak._ ”  It had been a long time since he had let fury slip so clearly into his voice, but he couldn’t hold it back.  He angrily spoke of Axel, but his words were equally directed at himself. Luxord was right. Axel had won. He had died for someone he cared about, and had left Saïx behind for good.  

Xemnas had not yet spoken.  When his rumbling voice met Saïx’s ears, Saïx’s gaze jerked upwards, yellow eyes still darkened by his ire.  

“But,” Xemnas began, smooth as silk, “weakness has the power to awaken that which is dormant.”  He cast a short glance down at Saïx before returning his gaze to the rest of the room.. “It is clear that through his actions, however foolish they may have been, Axel has touched Sora’s heart.  Perhaps _he_ will soon awaken.”

Saïx stifled another outburst, retreating beneath a furrowed brow and stony expression.  He said nothing else for the remainder of the meeting, save when he was directly addressed.  At last, Xemnas dismissed them. “Meeting adjourned,” he said, seemingly unbothered by their severely dwindled numbers.  As they were making to leave, he paused before continuing. “Saïx. Wait here. I have a few matters I wish to discuss with you.”  Saïx froze.

“Yes, sir,” he said flatly, re-crossing his legs and casting his face aside.  He caught Xigbar’s eyes; the senior Nobody made an offensive gesture at Saïx before vanishing into his portal with a wry grin.  Sometimes Saïx could swear that Xigbar and Xemnas swapped secrets together like teenagers at a slumber party.

Once they were alone, Xemnas reclined further on his throne, resting his face on his fist.  “It seems that Axel’s demise has impacted you more deeply than I anticipated.”

Saïx made eye-contact with him, expression blank and measured.  “It is of no concern,” he lied, voice even. “Pardon my earlier outburst.  As the moon brightens, I find it increasingly more difficult to keep my temper.”  In a way, it was true. Saïx’s berserk rages had become much easier to slip into.

Xemnas chuckled.  “I appreciate that a Nobody like yourself is in possession of so much anger.  It strengthens you, as I am certain you are aware.”

“Indeed.  Pardon me, sir, but is this all you wished to discuss?”  Saïx bobbed his foot absently. His mind was elsewhere. It needed to be occupied by work, battle, or—

“I sense an anxiety in you, number seven.  I do not want your focus hampered for the inevitable confrontation with the Keyblade wielder,” Xemnas purred.  “Let me smooth it away.”

“If you insist, Xemnas,” Saïx said dully, the direct use of his superior’s name making Xemnas’s eyes flash.  

Xemnas gave a crooked grin, peering down at Saïx from his half-lidded, beautiful eyes.  “You know where to go.”

When the two of them jointly reached Xemnas’ room, and as Xemnas made to unzip Saïx’s coat, something hitched in Saïx’s chest.  Without thinking, his hand sprang to Xemnas’, halting it in its steps. He... couldn’t do this. Not right now. Saïx held perfectly still, both of their actions halted, and Xemnas looked at him in perplexment.  

“Sir,” Saïx said quietly.  “I’m afraid I’m not feeling up to our… usual.”  He half-expected to be grabbed roughly, pulled and prodded in the way that was Xemnas’ wont.  Instead, the superior simply gave him a curious look, slowly letting his hand fall away. Saïx couldn’t read his face; it looked somehow puzzled, impressed, and vacant all at once.  

“Interesting,” Xemnas murmured, and Saïx had a feeling it was not him that Xemnas was speaking to.  After a moment of that odd expression, Xemnas’ gaze came to focus on Saïx once more. “I will let you be on your way.  Stay on your guard, number seven.”

Saïx stiffly exited through a portal.  The clock was ticking. The Keyblade wielder was closing in, and Kingdom Hearts was all but complete.  Soon, Saïx would have a heart again.

Odd.  He felt even more empty at the notion.


	7. Gain and Loss

It was time.  Saïx was finished toying with Sora, stringing him along.  He could finally strike him down, and  _ oh, _ how delicious that would be.  If it hadn’t been for Sora, Axel would still be here at Saïx’s side.  Roxas wouldn’t have existed, wouldn’t have drawn him away. They could have executed their original plan, could have wrested control of the Organization together, could have tracked down the girl they had befriended and lost, could have found a new life.  But then Sora and his Nobody had come along.

Saïx knew there were more forces at play beyond just Sora, but for now, he reveled in having an object on which he could focus his aggression.  

The Keyblade wielder and his insufferable friends had been plowing their way through the castle’s floors, Saïx taunting him along the way.  Kairi had escaped with Namine, and Riku had joined up with them. Xigbar and Luxord had both fallen. Now, only Saïx and Xemnas remained. And yet Saïx felt curiously at ease.  His heart, his completion, was nearly at hand. All he had to do now was take care of Sora.

He waited in what was left of the Grey Area.  The mighty glass window peered out upon Kingdom Hearts, its radiance unparalleled, and Saïx gazed at it, steeled and focused.  At last, he heard footsteps rushing into the room, and he tore his gaze from the moon, directing its harshness at Sora. 

“Only you could have made it this far in one piece… Roxas,” Saïx said, carefully measured and sardonic as he always was in his dealings with Sora.  Sora reacted in indignation to the misnomer, and Saïx smirked coldly. Roxas had had that same fire. Saïx would enjoy putting it out.

“Different name, same fate,” he hissed, drawing his claymore and unlocking the full breadth of its brutality.  He let the moon take over, its power honing his rage into a blind, furious frenzy. The clash of blades resounded in his ears, but he did not hear them; his own screams of violence sliced through the open space, torn from his throat as he let himself succumb to madness.  He relished in the yelps of pain that the savage blows of his claymore drew from Sora, and not until it was too late did he realize his own strength was being rapidly sapped.

Sora, in a burst of desperation, unleashed a final volley of strikes that flung Saïx back, knocking the wind from him.  Stumbling back, Saïx realized that his arms were shaking with exertion, and his claymore disappeared from his hand. Had he… truly been bested?  The power of the moon, all his berserk rage, drained from him, and he was left panting for breath. He could scarcely stand upright. So this was how it was all going to end.  Inches away from success. Bested by a brat. Limping, Saïx turned and faced the moon one last time. So close.

With one last plea for a heart falling from his lips, Saïx sank into oblivion.   

**~*~**

Saïx awoke feeling like there was an anvil on his chest.   _ In  _ his chest.  The gentle thrum of machinery buzzed in his ears, fluorescent lights assaulting his reluctantly opening eyes.  He felt sick in a way he only distantly remembered, sitting upright and clutching his chest. There was pain. 

Where was he?  The room he was in looked only vaguely familiar; it was sparsely furnished and had an air of age.  Gradually, as he breathed in lungfuls of air, memories flooded back —clashing metal, aggressive shouting, insidious planning.  It all came rushing into his mind, returning with the force of a flooded river after a storm, and at that moment,  Saïx realized what the pain was .  He buried his face in his hands.

Heartache.   __

He could feel a heartbeat in his chest.  A _ heart. _  Completion.  True existence.  He had regained what he had lost—and yet its weight felt like it was going to crush him.  Something welled within him, eventually tearing through his frame and releasing itself in a sob.  How had he come back? Had Kingdom Hearts come to fruition after all? 

He let the surges of conflicting emotions course through him, tears falling from his eyes for the first time in a long, long while.  Relief was there, no doubt about that. But now there was guilt. As he remembered his time as a Nobody, the things he had said and done, shame coursed through his veins.  He had goaded and injured remorselessly, had dished out pain and abuse where it had not truly been due. He thought of Axel, and froze, his tears drying. 

Saïx had expired and had awoken with a heart, as Isa.  Could that mean…? His newly reacquired heart surged. If he had found his way back, then wouldn’t Lea have also?  Isa nearly rushed from the bed, prepared to tear whatever world this was apart until he found Lea. Then further sobering memories struck him.  

Saïx and Axel had disintegrated their friendship.  Saïx had, at every turn, lashed out at Roxas and… had there been another?  He couldn’t recall, but he remembered how, even devoid of a heart, he had been blinded by his jealousy.  He recalled just how cruel he had been to Roxas as he watched Axel drift away, Roxas’ only sin being that he was Axel’s newfound favored companion.  Something Saïx could not forgive.

Isa could not deny the jealousy that still raged in his heart.  Lea had been  _ his  _ friend first.  They were the ones who should have been side-by-side.  But now, that aching jealousy was compounded with regret.  It was no wonder that Axel had left. Saïx had been little more than a grim shadow of Isa, his worst personality traits amplified by what began as good intentions.  Isa thought of the girl he and Lea had wanted to rescue. Had they utterly failed? Had she truly even existed? He couldn’t stand to think anymore. Pressing his index finger and thumb to the bridge of his nose, he simply let himself drown in  _ feeling _ .  He hadn’t realized so much of it would be pain.       

A curt rap on the door tore him from his wallowing, and he quickly wiped his eyes with his sleeve.  He was still wearing the Organization’s black coat, he realized distantly. Before he could snap “ _ who’s there,”  _ the door creaked open, and in came an unwelcome, scarred figure carrying a tray piled high with breakfast food.

“Wakey wakey, sleeping beauty,” drawled Xigbar —or  Braig?  Isa wasn’t sure which.  Either way, he remained on his guard.  The intruder took one look at Isa’s puffy eyes and gave a knowing nod, saying, “I know, the whole getting-your-heart-back thing is a real pain.  That’s why I gave mine back.” He gave Isa a wolfish smile, setting the tray down on the bedside table. It was Xigbar, then.

“What happened?” Isa spoke carefully and cautiously.  This meeting could only mean one thing: his task, his allegiance, was not yet complete.

Xigbar gestured to the tray.  “You’d better eat something. It’s a long story.”  

Isa made no move towards the tray; he wasn’t hungry in the least.  Xigbar rolled his eyes, seating himself unceremoniously on the battered chair a few feet away from Isa’s bed.  Isa listened, expression impassive, as Xigbar explained everything. Xehanort. Thirteen vessels. A new Keyblade War.  A true Organization XIII. In Isa’s mind, the gears began to turn.

“You’re one of the vessels,  _ Isa,”  _ Xigbar said dryly.  “Didn’t you wonder why those pretty green eyes turned yellow?”

Isa remained silent.  Though the breadth of information had sent him reeling, he had always been able to retain his composure when he wished to.  He also saw that he only had one option. He didn’t care about Xehanort or his Keyblade War in the least, but he saw in this path the means to restore what was lost.  His mind began to machinate from the start, a new goal at last in sight.

Atonement.

 


	8. Up and Down

Slowly but surely, Master Xehanort began to fill out his ranks.  His younger self, traveled forward in time; Xigbar, a sardonic, knowing smirk always plastered on his face; Xehanort’s Heartless and Nobody, brought back from the darkness; and, newly re-ushered into the state of a Nobody, Saïx.  Saïx’s emotions had been tamed once again by the process, but this time he brought with him more fragments of Isa, roiling beneath the surface — beneath Xehanort’s grasp.  Once again, he had his own machinations ruminating beneath the nose of his superior, aided by his effortlessly placid exterior.  Behind the scenes he laid the groundwork of his plans, all while aiding Master Xehanort in his dirty work. 

Now, at least, he knew Lea was alive, thanks to the incident with Sora in Nothing Gathers.  He remembered his claymore bearing down on Lea’s chakram, unsure just where Xehanort’s urging ended and his own feelings began.  The gust of wind from the clash of their weapons had blown Saïx’s hood away from his face, and he recalled the look of shock, a mixture of relief and horror, that had bloomed on Lea’s face.   Though Saïx had not said a word, he laid bare a promise spoken from the depths of his eyes:  _ I’m going to set things right.   _ He hoped Lea had caught it before springing away.  

Saïx scarcely slept these days.  He was haunted by memories, the distant fond ones darkened by the recent pain.  He dwelled ceaselessly on his own actions, torn between justifying and damning them.  

_ I kept my goals in sight.  He didn’t.  _

_                                                               But he grew.  I didn’t.  _

_ He abandoned me.   _

_                                                               I drove him away.   _

He thought of Roxas.  He remembered the sting when Axel snubbed him, opting instead to spend his time with someone he barely knew.  But Saïx also recalled the cruelty he had dealt to Roxas in their last life. He knew precisely from where it had come; he was still struck by pangs of jealousy at the idea of a friendship between Nobodies replacing the one Axel and Saïx once had.  But what good had that envy done him? Axel had simply hated him the more for it. And, as Saïx at last admitted to himself, Roxas hadn’t deserved it. But he also recalled how… happy Roxas had made Axel. Saïx ached with his jealousy, ached for the time  _ he  _ had been the one making a grin spread across his friend’s face. 

That was what he wanted now.  Lea’s smile. Saïx, at last, wanted Lea to be happy.   _ You’re not going to be a part of it.  He’s not going to smile at you again,  _ said the voice in the back of Saïx’s head.  No, he wouldn’t be smiling at Saïx. But at least he would be smiling. 

Saïx recalled the loyalty that had driven both him and Axel to their places in the Organization in the first place, the lost friend they had so dearly wanted to track down.  This time, he felt the need to turn that loyalty to Lea. The girl was gone, but Lea’s friends didn’t have to be. Saïx could make certain of that.

He had gone to Vexen in secret, had needled him about his motivations.  Satisfied, Saïx quietly revealed his own plans: Vexen would create another replica in secret, and it would be delivered to the researchers aiding the guardians of light.  It would become the vessel for Roxas’ heart, released from Sora’s when the time was right. With any luck, it would be Roxas who would strike Saïx down, and Saïx’s role would be fulfilled.  He smiled emptily to himself at the thought. He was so tired of playing these games. 

~*~ 

Saïx wasn’t sure what made him go to the clock tower that day.  There had been a burgeoning feeling in his chest, a tug that he let himself follow.  Perhaps, deep in the heart he had been told that he could grow, he had a feeling Lea would be there.

He was right.  Stepping out of his dark portal onto the clock tower, he rounded the corner and saw Lea’s flaming spikes, his legs sprawled dangerously over the side of the clock tower.  Saïx felt a tightness in his chest, but he ignored it, injecting himself into Lea’s moment. He snatched one of Lea’s ice creams, smirking at the ensuing objection. Of course Lea had bought three.  As often as Saïx told himself otherwise, he knew Lea’s memory was far too keen to forget anyone, even when his memory had been altered to do as much.

Even though their exchange was laced with barbs, even though Saïx’s posture remained closed and Lea’s voice carried anger and confusion, it felt good to sit like this.  It was a ghost of their time together in Radiant Garden — and, Saïx told himself, it was the closest they would ever get again.

Deliberately, methodically, Saïx needled Lea.   _ You gave up.  Face it, Roxas is just like our other friend.   _ He knew he was getting under Lea’s skin.  That was precisely what he intended to do.  Lea couldn’t know it was Saïx pulling the strings.  At the end of it all, Lea could believe whatever he wanted once he had Roxas back.  Saïx would be long gone.

The light of the eternal sunset made Lea’s hair look like it was on fire, and it shone brilliantly in his emerald eyes.  Saïx felt a profound relief that those eyes had never been recast in yellow. He looked away —staring too long at the reproachful expression on that beautiful face was like being burned by the sun itself.  

Saïx found himself wishing he could taste the ice cream that lingered on Lea’s lips.

That thought wouldn’t do.  He drew himself upright, slipping his popsicle stick into his pocket, dropping one final jibe at Lea about the marks under his eyes.  They had disappeared, after all. __

“Will you get lost?” Lea snapped, voice defensive.  Once upon a time, Saïx had heard him use that same tone of voice while arguing with his parents.  “I’ll clobber you tomorrow.” __

Saïx smiled, almost genuine beneath its natural sardonicism.  “I expect no less.”

When he disappeared into the dark corridor, he withdrew the popsicle stick.  On it, beside a little crown, was the word “Winner.” Saïx broke it in half.      

~*~

Vexen’s studies were proceeding smoothly.  The arrogance of Xehanort and his closest circle made it all the easier to proceed beneath his nose; though Saïx himself was poised in that circle, he was still able to pull other strings.  The pieces were falling into place. Already Vexen had manufactured replicas for Xehanort, flawless vessels for the hearts of his followers plucked from time. No one cared about whatever else Vexen was doing in his lab .

Saïx slipped in shortly after his meeting with Lea on the clocktower.  “Vexen,” he said coolly. “A word.” 

The scientist jumped slightly — Saïx had a habit of startling him.  He whirled around, eyebrow raised. “A knock every so often would be nice,” Vexen grumbled, tidying a stack of notes.  “The usual place, then?”

Saïx nodded, and together they slipped into another corridor, exiting in one of Radiant Garden’s alleyways.  Seeing his old hometown restored more with each passing day filled Saïx with something curious, a cocktail of elation and guilt.  He pushed those emotions aside, his expression hidden beneath his hood. “How are things faring?”

Vexen grinned; it was always a little unsettling, the way his eye would bulge.  “Splendidly. These replicas are perfect —you can’t tell the difference between them and a human!”

“When will  _ his  _ be ready?” Saïx couldn’t bring himself to say Roxas’ name, even if they weren’t at constant risk of being uncovered.  

Vexen wrapped long fingers around his pointed chin.  “Soon, very soon.” He paused. “I don’t suppose you’ll ever tell me what moved you of all people to this?”

Saïx examined the stone of the alley wall.  “It’s time we atoned for our pasts. I am no different.”  Vexen gave him a pointed look. Saïx hadn’t forgotten that it was Axel who had sent Vexen up in flames.  He didn’t want to open up that can of worms.

“Well, then, how are we supposed to get it to Ienzo?” Vexen said shortly, though there was a touch of softness in his gaze at the mention of his pupil.  At that, Saïx heaved a deep sigh. This was the only way to move things along, the only means of atoning, of bringing back Lea’s laughter. But that didn’t mean what he was about to say didn’t make him want to bash his head into the wall.

“Demyx.”  


	9. Hot and Cold

Xemnas and Saïx rarely crossed paths these days.  Master Xehanort kept them all busy; they spent their days performing recon, training, studying, and, behind the backs of everyone else, attending to more... personal matters.  Everyone had their idiosyncrasies, after all. Yet Saïx found his path crossing more rarely with his old boss than anyone else—a circumstance that worked well enough for him.  A part of him wanted to indulge in his old habit, to let him forget himself and his thoughts at the beck and call of Xemnas’ hands.  Another part of him was repulsed by such desperation. Mostly, he was glad they seemed to have gone separate ways in this new organization.  That way, he didn't have to worry about it in either regard.

It wasn’t until the day before the final showdown, just after Saïx had spoken with Lea on the clock tower, that Xemnas finally approached him in earnest.  Saïx had decided on a whim to return to Twilight Town after speaking with Vexen; the latter was taking care of the replica delivery, and Saïx didn’t want to be anywhere near it when it happened.  He stepped out of a dark corridor and into the forest, the dappled sunlight casting everything in a peachy hue. He remembered the way the sunlight caught itself in Lea’s bright hair. It made him look like he was glowing.

Lea.  It had likely been the last time Saïx would see him before their weapons clashed.  And it had been so… cold, disconnected a meeting. Saïx’s chest felt hollow, as if something inside it had fallen away and tied itself into a knot in his belly instead.  He wondered distantly if, should he fall tomorrow, he would come back or not. He supposed it didn’t matter. He had his end goal, and if it wiped him out entirely, so be it.  Perhaps that was for the best.

Seating himself absently on an overgrown root, he crossed his legs, shutting his eyes for a moment.  He tried to occupy his mind with something, anything but the memory of the reproachful look he had seen on Lea’s face.  Perhaps their connection was really gone entirely, then. At least from Lea’s side, it was, Saïx told himself. Sighing, he turned his face towards the twilit sky.  His moment of self-flagellation disguised as respite didn’t last long; he caught a glimpse of a familiar figure treading towards him on the worn path that led from the old mansion.  

“Saïx,” Xemnas said, voice resonant and rich.  “It has been a long time.”

“It has indeed,” Saïx said, sighing as he stood to greet the newcomer.  There was more than a touch of awkwardness at their meeting. At least Saïx felt so.

“I trust you’re prepared for what is soon to come?” Xemnas said.  Sometimes he held so still that it was unnerving.

“Of course.”

Xemnas cocked his head to one side, a curious expression on his face.  His brows were raised slightly, and his red-gold eyes looked oddly doleful.  Had he been a stranger, Saïx would have said his gaze was tender and, perhaps, a little sad.  But Saïx knew better than that.

“Lea will be felled tomorrow,” said Xemnas, not letting his voice betray any of the thoughts that may have passed over his face.  “How do you feel about that?”

“I feel nothing,” Saïx lied.  “You know that as well as I do.”

Xemnas blinked, catlike and slow.  “Do I, now?”

Saïx looked at him quizzically.  “Something tells me you didn’t meet me here to engage in small talk,” he said quietly.  A small smile played at Xemnas’ lips. They really were beautiful, Saïx had to admit.

“I did not.  I came here to express my gratitude.”

Saïx was taken aback.  “Excuse me, sir?”

“You have been someone on whose strength I could rely.  Amidst our ranks’ various betrayals, you have remained a constant.”  

 _If you only knew,_ thought Saïx.  Then, with a small burst of panic, _what if he does?  What if this is a trap?_ When he spoke, his words were measured and even.  “I take my loyalties seriously, sir. That is all.”

“Ever modest.” Xemnas’ expression took on a pensive quality.  “Our victory tomorrow is all but assured, and yet…” He took his chin in one hand, balancing his elbow on the other as he paused, seeming to shift gears.  “I have missed you, Saïx.”

“This again?” Saïx said, instilling his voice with a touch of dry humor.  “We both know better than that.”

Xemnas raised his brows, not in question, but in thought.  “Perhaps you are right.”

Saïx had to admit his own confusion.  “If you don’t mind my asking, what has gotten into you?”  

There was that pensive expression again before Xemnas’ gaze snapped back into focus.  He closed the distance between them with a single, deliberate stride, running a hand through Saïx’s hair and bringing it to rest at the base of Saïx’s neck.  The touch made Saïx’s skin tingle; he held his breath. Xemnas merely looked at him for a moment, his expression indiscernible.

“When this is over,” he said slowly, his face inches from Saïx’s, “I should like to rekindle our old flame.”

Saïx didn’t shrink away.  He met Xemnas’ eyes head-on, unwavering.  There were no plans in his next life involving Xemnas—he didn’t have any plans at all, he realized.  Saïx felt something flutter in his chest, caught beneath that piercing gaze.  He had lost Axel, lost Lea. Tomorrow, who knew what else he would lose, if he had anything left.  For today, he simply wanted to _feel_ again, and he didn’t care how.  Perhaps, one last time...

“We will see what happens,” was Saïx’s deliberate reply.  He made no move, but he cast his eyes down, quiet and subdued.  Xemnas, too, said nothing; he merely stood there for a moment, taking a deep breath through his nose.  Unhurriedly, he ran his hands down to Saïx’s waist before he leaned forward and drew a sudden kiss from Saïx’s lips.  Physically, the contact was warm, but everything else about it was cold—it was nothing like Axel.  Saïx didn’t pull away, but neither did he return it; it simply _was._  

Xemnas withdrew, tracing his fingertips idly down the side of Saïx’s face.  Everything about this meeting was strange, Saïx thought. Xemnas didn’t sound like himself; perhaps, after all this time, the superior was finally growing a heart of his own.  Saïx wondered what that could possibly mean.

“To tomorrow’s victory,” Xemnas said, as if giving a toast, before he stepped back, a dark corridor appearing behind him.

Saïx spoke up quietly.  “Wait.” Xemnas raised his brows, and the corridor faded away.  Taking a deep breath, Saïx looked up at Xemnas through dark lashes.  “The mansion is abandoned. We have some… time, if you wish to…”

A catlike smile spread across Xemnas’ lips; this time, the expression was more familiar when he cupped Saïx’s face.  “Indeed.”

~*~

The empty mansion was chilly, but the cold was unfelt by the two warm bodies sequestered in one of its side rooms.  One last time, Saïx gave himself over to Xemnas—part of him hated himself for his weakness, for this consort with the man that had caused both him and Lea so much grief.  And yet so much of him was _hurting._ He was back at square one; he wanted to feel _something_ that wasn’t heartache, if even for a moment, and Xemnas’ intensity was an easy cop-out.  Everything about Xemnas was so unlike Axel; he was thick where Axel was thin, rough where Axel was soft, silent where Axel was loud, cold where Axel was warm.  Perhaps that was the very reason Saïx had sought him out so long ago in the first place.  Xemnas wouldn’t remind him as much of what he could never have with Lea.

At least, that had been the intent.  And yet, when Xemnas bade him goodbye and good luck, Saïx felt tears welling within him for the first time since he rejoined the Organization.  He fought to stifle the quaver that threatened at his lips as Xemnas kissed him a final time, the touch lingering until he disappeared into the darkness.  Once Xemnas’ corridor had disappeared entirely, Saïx let his tears fall, the soft sound of his sobs muffled by the discarded coat he drew to his lips. _That should have been you.  I wish it was you._

He felt the chill of the wind.  


	10. Victory and Defeat

Xion.  Like everyone else, Saïx had forgotten about her when she faded; but when Xehanort plucked her into being once again, reintroducing her to Saïx, all the memories came flooding back.   _ Number XIV.  The puppet. Axel’s friend.   _ When Saïx looked at her now, he didn’t see the blank doll he remembered; this time, there was a face, a girl’s, framed by dark hair, and he was struck with the realization that  _ this _ was what Axel and Roxas had seen.  So she had coalesced enough to have a… definitive face, now.  A pit settled in his belly.

She was a girl, her face reminding him of the long-lost friend he and Lea had met so long ago.  She was reserved and mild-mannered, but had a flame of strength and sadness that roiled beneath her surface — a sadness Saïx knew he personally had a hand in cultivating.  He remembered seeing Xion tag along with Axel and Roxas, remembered Axel's fierce, protective fondness for her.  He remembered the cruelty he himself had dished out, violently jealous that a puppet without a face had become dearer to Axel than he was.  As he looked at Xion now, her expression hidden by her hood, regret welled in him anew. He felt like a monster. He  _ was  _ a monster.  

Xion's expression was hidden beneath her hood, but her hands were balled at her sides.  Xehanort presented her to Saïx, his hand at the small of her back as he nudged her forward.  “Here is our final member,” he said in his croaking voice. “I’ve had her in the ranks for some time, but she seemed particularly... apprehensive about meeting you again, Saïx.  Yet our time is nigh. We must all be prepared.”

A pang of guilt and frustration shot through Saïx’s core.  “Understandable.” He looked down at her, her small frame poised as if ready to leap to her own defense.  

Xehanort gave a crooked smile before speaking again.  “I must be on my way,” he said, folding his hands behind his back.  “I trust you two will both be sufficiently prepared for the battle to come.”  

Saïx nodded, averting his gaze from Xion, waiting to speak until Xehanort wandered away into a dark corridor.  “Number fourteen.”

She flinched at his voice.  “What?” Her tone was flat.

Saïx’s own words replayed in his mind.   _ Did it break again?  Useless puppet.  _ If anything, he’d been far crueler to Xion than to Roxas.  He remembered only the sight of the faceless doll, a replica without a heart; he remembered the blind fury that filled him when he discovered that this  _ thing _ , this empty vessel had, somehow, become so dear to Axel, all while Saïx himself was left in the dust.  But now, as Saïx looked at this slight figure, her shoulders raised slightly as if waiting for a blow, guilt riddled him.   _ More mistakes to add to the pile. _

He wanted to apologize, but the words caught in his throat.  “I… Xion. How did you get here?”

Xion’s hands flexed at her sides.  “Maybe I’m not as useless as you think.”

Saïx shifted his weight, sighing. “It would seem so.”  He cast his gaze aside, unable to look at the girl in front of him.  The chilly, harsh wind of the badlands stung his cheeks, the dust clinging to his coat and his hair.

Xion cast off her hood, looking up at him with a cautious quizzicality.  When she spoke, her voice was stronger than he remembered hearing it before.  “You’ve changed, Saïx.”

“So I’ve been told,” Saïx muttered, recalling the bitterness in Axel’s voice when the same words had fallen from his lips.   _ This time, I want it to be for the better.   _ The thought spurred him on,  and he, at last, spoke in earnest.  “Listen. I know that I, of all people, have no room to ask anything of you.  But I have one request.”

Xion furrowed her brows.  “What’s that?”

_ Let me fix things.   _ “Take care of Axel for me.”

Her expression softened slightly, though she was still guarded.  “We’re supposed to be fighting him today, aren’t we?” 

“Indeed.  Luckily, we both have experience with that,” Saïx said, voice chilly.  “Just promise me. Take care of him.” He hoped —he knew  Xion would understand what he meant.  He wondered if, once this was all over, she would tell Lea about this particular encounter.  Saïx certainly wouldn’t have admitted it to him himself; then again, he would never have to. Today, he felt, would be their last meeting.  From there, it didn’t matter. The only thing that did, for now, was Lea.

Xion’s shoulders seemed to slump slightly.  “I promise,” she said, barely audible. “I’ll do it.”

Saïx breathed a low sigh, squaring his shoulders.  He still avoided her eyes. “Good. Thank you, Xion.”

There was a pregnant pause, and then Xion suddenly cried out: “What…  _ happened  _ to you?”  She shook her hooded head, at a loss.  “Here you are, calling me by my name, asking me to take care of Axel… what happened?”

Saïx waited before he spoke, folding his arms .  “I am… not sure myself. I know I can’t take back the things I’ve said and done.  I can’t ask any of you to forgive me. All I can do is… this.” He paused before revealing too much.  He had changed, certainly —he wasn’t sure how much Xion herself had.  It would do well to remain cautious until his plan came to fruition.  And yet, her tenderness when he said Axel’s name… he felt that things would be alright.

~*~

The berserk rage flowed through him, the pain from his scar radiating from his face through his body and to the tip of his claymore.  He was only dimly aware of the surroundings, of who and where he was fighting, as he always was when the frenzied power of the moon coursed through his veins.  It was like a drug, like a poison, his strengths and his weaknesses all wrapped up in a feral package.  He didn’t have to think. He had only to fight, the dusty air clogging his lungs and the blows to his battered body taking him down one by one.  

It had all worked.  The vessel had arrived; Roxas had returned; Lea was saved; Saïx was finishing his part.  Even buried beneath the violence of a berserker, Saïx felt a surge of emotion at the feeling of his flesh being bruised and torn by the keyblade wielders Axel had held so dear.   _ This is what you deserve,  _ the remaining sentient part of his mind thought grimly.   _ A fitting end for such a fool. _

There, in the Keyblade Graveyard, Saïx fell.  There, he finally admitted the jealousy that had seared his heart and soul.  There, he faded, cradled in the arms of the man he loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this update took awhile, and that it's a little short! Finishing out the semester and a few other projects kind of took the reins of my life for awhile, and I got a little stuck here. I'm excited for the last few chapters, though, and I always appreciate your comments! They really encourage me to keep going :)


	11. Sleep and Wake

Cool air brushed over sweat-dampened skin.  Eyes opened. A heart beat. 

“You’re awake!”  The thoughtful voice dimly met Isa’s ears, distantly familiar but heard as if through a heavy curtain.  His eyes adjusted slowly to the warm, yellow light, and he tried to prop himself up on his elbows before promptly slipping back down.  

“You haven’t yet recovered fully,” said the voice, and Isa traced it to a young face, half-veiled by bluish-silver hair.  Zexion? No, what was his human name…? Yes, Ienzo, that was it. “You still need to rest. We weren’t sure if you were even going to wake up, but this is good news indeed.”

_ We?  _ thought Isa, memories slowly returning to him.   _ Oh.  Oh no.   _ The weight on his chest, the heaviness that resided there… he was back, after all.  He groaned softly, casting a hand over his face. “What happened?” His own voice, too, sounded distant, and he felt more than a little woozy.

“Light prevailed,” said Ienzo, a smile stealing over what could be seen of his lips.  “Xehanort is no more.”

“Lea,” Isa managed.  “How’s Lea?” 

“He’s doing fine, it seems.”  

At that, Isa’s relief nearly bubbled out in a sob.   _ He’s safe. _

Ienzo continued, expression thoughtful.  “He’s decided to go by Axel still, though.  Said the name had ‘more flair.’ Besides, Roxas couldn’t break the habit.”

Isa snorted weakly.  “Of course.” For a moment, his heart had soared.  Lea —Axel was safe.  Xehanort was gone.  His plan as  Saïx plan had succeeded.  Then that joy came crashing down again.  Axel wasn’t going to want him back. He was undoubtedly away with Roxas and Xion, happy at last.  After all, his and Isa’s ship had sailed long ago. Isa knew as much, knew all he wanted was for Lea to be  _ happy. _  So why did it  _ hurt  _ so badly?  

Isa had all but forgotten the ferocity of human emotions, even since his last reawakening, and he felt his newly-completed heart splinter at his own thoughts.  Part of him wanted to know whether Axel had at least asked after him, but his pride wouldn’t allow himself to posit such a question to Ienzo. Instead, he turned his head on his pillow, running his hands through his hair.  He didn’t catch the way Ienzo’s face softened.

“I always knew there was something between you two,” Ienzo said wryly.  “If you wanted to know, Axel’s been by nearly every day to check on you.”

Isa stiffened.  For a moment, he felt eerily like Ienzo had read his mind.  “Why would I want to know that?” he snapped, but his voice didn’t quite have the bite he had wanted it to.  He was torn between relief and agony. What, then, did Axel want?

Ienzo raised his hands defensively.  “Axel  _ was  _ the first thing you mentioned after regaining consciousness,” he said, brows raised.  “You’re giving off mixed signals here.”  _ As usual,  _ Isa thought to himself.  He always said one thing and meant another.  

His self-loathing was interrupted by a knock at the door, and Ienzo went to open it.  In came Vexen —no, Even now—clad in the same scientific garb Ienzo wore.  A smile came across his angular face, looking unsettling despite his intentions.  “Well, well, well, look who’s awake!” he cried, ushering himself in. “About time.  I was getting concerned.” There was a curious look on Even’s face—perhaps, if he didn’t suffer from the unique condition of chronic creepiness, it may have seemed paternal.

“Concerned?  Really?” said Isa, pushing himself upright until he was leaning back against the headboard.  It seemed his strength was returning. 

“No one else took this long to regain consciousness,” Even explained, cradling his chin in spindly, gloved fingers.  “It was almost as though you were  _ resisting  _ recompletion.”

“Perhaps I was,” Isa said softly, thinking of the lonely life that now awaited him.  He had never been any good at making friends; he certainly didn’t make any in the Organization, and even before becoming a Nobody his circle had been, as his grandmother put it, _“quite elite.”_ For a short time, he had treasured their ill-fated lab rat friend, but aside from her, it had always been Lea.  Axel. The two names swirled on the tip of his tongue. _Where is he now?_ he wondered, staring at the empty door frame.

Then, suddenly, it was no longer empty.  Isa’s stomach dropped.

Though he’d finally lost the black coat, he still looked largely the same.  Black boots, black jacket, black pants. A red vest offered  _ some  _ color beyond the impossibly spiked red hair and clever green eyes, but everything about him, colorful or otherwise, was perfectly unmistakable.

“Lea,” Isa breathed, the old name slipping from his lips as though it had been knocked out of him.  There was some alarm on Axel’s face at the sight of Isa sitting upright, and when he caught sight of Even, the temperature of the room tangibly cooled.   _ Oh, yes,  _ remembered Isa,  _ Axel… disposed of him initially.  Awkward.  _

Ienzo mercifully intervened before the atmosphere in the room could become too unbearable.  “We’ll leave you two alone for a moment,” he said, an earnest expression on his face as he tugged on Vexen’s sleeve.  “You must have things to catch up on.” 

Vexen gave Axel a chilly glare, then mouthed  _ “you could do better”  _ at Isa before exiting alongside Ienzo, sending a light blush to the bedridden man’s cheeks.  Axel still hadn’t spoken, standing with his arms awkwardly at his side until the door shut behind the two scientists.  Once he heard the door click, he sighed deeply, pulling a chair up to Isa’s bedside.

“So,” he said slowly, letting his hands dangle between his legs.  It had been so long since Isa had seen them without gloves.

“So,” Isa said back, painfully aware of every movement Axel’s eyes made.  They were so unbelievably  _ green. _

Axel sighed again, clearly struggling to find something to say ( _ for once,  _ Isa thought fondly), lacing his fingers together behind his head.  Finally, he spoke. “You really were jealous?”

Isa’s eyebrow quirked up immediately, and he was grateful his pale complexion didn’t blush extensively.  “I just wake up from a coma and that’s your opening line?”

Axel made a slight annoyed sound in the back of his throat.  “Listen, it’s all that’s been on my mind since we found you,” he said defensively.  

Isa gave a short, bitter laugh through his nose.  “I’m sure it hasn’t. How are Roxas and Xion?”

“Better, now that they have significantly fewer angry people trying to nix them all the time,” Axel replied, a funny smile quirking up the corner of his mouth.  “The three of us have been working on renovating the old mansion in Twilight Town so they’ll have a real place to stay.”

“Glad to hear you’re all doing well,” Isa said, voice fastidiously kept flat.  It was so much  _ harder  _ when he felt like someone was taking a tenderizer to his heart.  “I take it you’ll all be living there? They need someone to look after them, don’t they?”

This time, it was Axel’s brows’ turn to rise.  “Believe me, those kids can look after themselves,” he said emphatically, huffing slightly through his teeth.  “As for me… I’m not sure yet where I’m gonna end up. I guess I was going to ask you the same thing.”

Isa tore his gaze away from Axel’s face, rolling his neck back until he was looking at the ceiling.  “They told me you’re going by Axel again.”

Axel gave him a lopsided smile.  “Took a liking to it. Besides, the old Axel sure made sure everyone had the name memorized.  Plus the ‘x’ gives it a little more sex appeal, don’t you think?”

“Sex appeal,” Isa repeated sardonically, casting a sidelong glance at him.   _ Don’t even think about it,  _ he told himself, his eyes dragging a little too long on Axel’s defined collarbones. 

Axel chuckled a little bit, shaking his head from side to side.  “Man, I wish I’d have known you’d be awake today. I would have brought ice cream.”

There was a pregnant pause, and suddenly Isa couldn’t stop himself.  “What do you want with me, Axel?” he snapped, the regret instantly striking a blow to his already-wounded heart.  “Is this pity? Is it a gentle way of saying goodbye?”

Axel furrowed his brow defensively.  “Isa,” he said softly. “I remember what it was like to get my heart back.  Everything just felt like… so much. All the hurt, the pain, the  _ everything,  _ magnified like crazy.  I get it, right now you feel like you’re going to explode.  But… as for me, I’ve had some time to mull things over, heart and all.  I don’t know what you’re thinking I came here to say, but it’s not goodbye.”

Isa’s pulse raced.  Axel’s face was deadly serious, his green eyes set with an earnesty Isa hadn’t seen since their younger days.  An earnesty he  _ loved.   _ “What  _ are _ you saying?”

Axel heaved a sigh, apparently formulating the right words.  When he spoke, it was slow and thoughtful. “I’ve made mistakes, boatloads of ‘em, but I’m ready to move past yours if you’re ready to move past mine.”

Isa couldn’t keep the quiet wetness from forming in his eyes.  Axel was right —he did feel like he was going to explode.  Where he had never before cried easily, even as a human, all of the thoughts and  _ feelings _ coursing through him sent insistent salty tears spilling out over his cheeks.  Axel looked shocked, and reached out instinctively to grasp Isa’s shoulder.

“Whoa, if you really wanted me out of here that badly, I can go,” Axel said hurriedly, withdrawing his hand as quickly as he had placed it.  Out of midair, Isa grabbed it lightly with his own, squeezing the long, delicate fingertips.

“That’s not—” Isa began, struggling to speak around the knot that had formed solidly in his throat.  “I don’t—please don’t leave.” His voice sank to a whisper, the words spilling before he could stop them.   _ Don’t leave me again.  I couldn’t bear it. _

Axel didn’t respond directly.  Instead, he drew himself closer, casting his eyes away.  “I won’t,” he said softly. Then, again, this time with more strength, meeting Isa’s eyes: “I won’t.  You’re my oldest friend, and I… want to try and make things work again.”

_ Present tense,  _ Isa thought in shock.   _ Not past.   _ “Even after everything I’ve done?” he said, as dryly as he could muster.

“That’s in the past,” Axel said, bringing Isa’s hand closer.  He looked at it for a moment, running his fingers along its curves and tendons.  “You can work to fix things with Roxas and Xion, but as far as I know, they’re open to it.  And so am I. I... want you back in my life, Isa.”

Isa closed his eyes, vainly trying through sheer willpower to keep tears from squeezing out.  “I wasn’t planning on coming back,” he said quietly. “I thought I would… just fade. I thought recompletion was something you had to desire.  But here I am anyway.” 

“You didn’t want to come back?” Axel said, squeezing his hand more tightly.  The gesture sent sparks up Isa’s arm. 

“I didn’t think I had anything left for me here,” Isa said after a deep breath.  “I didn’t want to… be alone again.”

“You were never gonna be, you moron,” Axel said, though the mirth in his voice was twinged with a tired sadness.  “I wouldn’t forget about you.”

“I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had,” Isa admitted softly.  The quiet ticking of the clock seemed deafening in the silence of the room.  Isa realized he wasn’t even sure what world they were in.

“I’ll ask Ienzo if I can bunk up here tonight,” said Axel, still clasping Isa’s hand, idly playing with the cool fingers.  It was a gesture he had enjoyed when they were kids, but he had always firmly asserted that it was  _ not  _ holding hands.  Isa wondered if he still held the same assertion.  “And then, once you’re ready… come stay with me, if you don’t have another place to go.”

Everything today had happened so fast.  Isa felt like he was going to burst. His heart roiled with guilt, shame, joy, and  _ love  _ as he met Axel’s eyes.  “If you insist,” was all he said.

Axel smiled, standing.  “I’m gonna go talk to Ienzo,” he said.  “Oh, and guess what?” 

“What?”  

“You look a lot sexier with green eyes.”  With a wink, Axel tossed a small hand mirror onto the bed.  Once he left, and once Isa had composed himself enough to steal a look in the mirror, he saw something he hadn’t seen in nearly a decade.

He looked into his own green eyes, and he let himself begin to sob.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost to the end! Thanks everyone for sticking through this with me :) As always, your comments really encourage me to brainstorm and write more quickly! I appreciate all of them!


	12. Salty and Sweet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY THIS UPDATE TOOK SO LONG! I just moved and it's been a little crazy on my end, but I've so appreciated all the love and support this story has gotten! We've almost reached the conclusion of this little story, and I'm so grateful to everyone who's stuck around :)

Isa had left Ienzo’s makeshift clinic about a week prior, and since then had been staying in one of Radiant Garden’s newly-sprung up motels.  “Don’t worry about Munny for awhile,” Ienzo had told him. “We’ve gotten together a rehabilitation fund for ex-members of the Organization. It’ll keep you afloat while you… settle in.”   _ Settle in, huh?  _ Isa thought to himself.   _ I don’t have any idea how to do that.   _ Grudgingly, he took the room key, and soon immersed himself in a bout of keeping to himself and reading alone in the room, featuring the occasional visit from the room service guy.  He himself wasn’t placing as many orders as showed up; Ienzo must have been looking out for him. The gesture, though appreciated, did little to quell the melancholy sitting heavily in Isa’s heart.  

In a word, he was lost.  How was he supposed to go back to being a  _ normal  _ person after everything he’d done?  What was he supposed to do, get a job as a store clerk and forget all the years he’d spent in violence?  As if.

The similarity of his internal monologue’s cadence to Xigbar’s made him throw his book at the wall.  

Swearing under his breath, he listlessly tore into a pack of cheap vegetable crisps just as his phone began to ring.  Even had given it to him, despite Isa’s insistence that it was unnecessary. “You never know,” Even had said, pressing it into his hand with that strange, bulbous-eyed look on his face.  Now, the phone's grating buzz met Isa’s ears from across the room, and he groaned, rolling off the bed to grab it

“Who’s this?” he answered rather coldly.  

“Not even a ‘hello’ to start off?” The voice on the other end of the line sent an electric current through Isa’s spine, and he stiffened immediately.  He wasn’t sure if he wished he’d let the call go to voicemail or not.

“Axel.”

“The one and only,” drawled his voice in Isa’s ear.  “Hey, are you busy later? Can I bring some stuff by?  Maybe chat for a bit?”

Isa’s face felt hot and cold at once.  “If you can think of one thing I could be doing right now that would make me busy, I’ll owe you ice cream for a year.”

A chuckle, then, “I didn’t know you could still crack jokes.”

_ It’s not really a joke,  _ Isa thought.  “Me neither,” he said flatly.  

“Is that a yes, then?”  Axel said after a pause that was more than slightly uncomfortable.  

“It is.  I’ll see you later.”

“Great!  I’ll be over in an hour or two, then.  Ienzo gave me the address already. Real friendly guy.”

“Mhm. See you,” was all Isa managed before he hit the red button to end the call.

He hadn’t forgotten about Axel’s offer.   _ Come stay with me, if you don’t have another place to go.   _ Isa had been hearing those words on loop in his head for the last week, chewing over and re-digesting them to the point of making himself sick.  It was all he ever wanted, to be back with Axel again, to be side-by-side with the man he loved. But at the same time, shame and guilt kept him from accepting the offer.  Surely it had been extended only in pity. Surely their ship had long since sailed. But here was Axel again, stopping by. He really hadn’t forgotten.

Isa stepped into the bathroom and took his first shower since leaving the clinic, letting the water run a little too hot.  He let his mind go empty as he washed his hair, letting the water scald him just slightly. When he got out, towel-drying his hair, he threw on a change of clothes from Aeleus that was at least two sizes too big, and he waited for Axel, looking at the pages of his book but not reading a word.  His mind, at the moment, wasn’t particularly fond of focusing.

At last, the knock at his door came.  Isa realized with a start that it was the very same special one they had used as kids to notify one when the other was at their front door.  The memory was fond, but it and all other thoughts drained from his mind as he opened the door and met Axel’s eyes.  _ Here I go again,  _ Isa thought, trying to suppress the quickened beating of his heart.  What  _ was  _ it about Axel that turned him into such a mess?

“Isa,” he said good-naturedly, a mellow, almost sheepish smile on his face.  “How are you?”

Isa chuckled a little bit.  “Been better.”

“Haven’t we all.  Look, though, I brought ice cream.  And a couple other things.” He hoisted a small pile of boxes up from the ground at his left.  “Can I come in?”

Isa stood aside to let Axel past, wishing that he was wearing something a little nicer than Aeleus’ oversized hand-me-downs.  Axel set the boxes down on a side table, withdrawing two blue ice creams from the topmost box and extending one to Isa as they took a seat on the modest couch.  “It’s about time you and I had these together again without wanting to kill each other,” Axel said sardonically, taking a bite of ice cream as Isa grabbed his.  

“I agree,” Isa said with a slight smile, licking his gingerly.  It had been awhile since he’d had something so sweet. “So, what’s new?”

“I’ve got a job in Twilight Town now,” said Axel, catching a bit of ice cream run-off with his tongue.  “I’m an MC for those Struggle battles they do all the time.”

“Really?” Isa raised his brows.  “What did you tell them your qualifications were?  Assassinations and double agency?” 

Axel laughed at that.  “Just told ‘em I’ve seen lotsa fights, I’m loud, and I’m one of the only adults in the town who knows all the kids’ names.  Roxas made sure of that.”

Isa paused for a moment, debating whether to ask his next question.  Quashing his nervousness, he asked, “How are Roxas and Xion, then?”

Axel visibly flushed with pride, a smile spreading across his face.  “They’re Struggle champs, obviously. They bring home prizes all the time, and they’ve both got part-time jobs, too.  I’m proud of ‘em.”

“Good to hear,” Isa said softly, taking another bite of ice cream.  

“They’ve asked about you, you know,” Axel added slowly.  “Xion, mostly, but Roxas too.”

Isa almost choked.  “What?”

Axel shrugged.  “They wanna know if you’re doing okay.  Roxas might still kick your ass, but Xion’s too sweet for her own good.  I think she really wants to forgive you.”

Isa stared down at his ice cream, twirling it to keep the melting droplets from dripping onto the floor.  “I’ll do my best to earn that forgiveness,” he said at length, looking at Axel with seriousness on his face.  “What about you?”

“What about me?  I’ve told you already, I’m done being bitter.  I forgave you before you woke up. That’s… part of why I’m here, actually.”

Isa cocked his head, crossing his legs.  “What do you mean?”

Polishing off the last of his ice cream, Axel grunted, reaching over to grab one of the boxes.  “Well, I picked a couple things out for you since you’ve been such a hermit lately,” he said, and Isa wasn’t sure whether he was changing the subject or not.  Before he could press further, Axel set the box on his lap. “Just open it,” said Axel, and Isa lifted the lid, withdrawing something that looked like… clothes?  Isa gasped softly. There was a high-collared tracksuit jacket with matching pants, a moon and star emblazoned on the left breast, and it sent him back almost painfully to their younger days.

“You didn’t have to go shopping for me,” he said, but he couldn’t hide the pleasure in his voice as he held up the jacket.  The gold thread of the moon caught the dim light beautifully, and the material was obviously of high quality. And how he had missed his tall collars during his time beneath the coat.

“You can just say ‘thanks,’ you know,” said Axel, and if Isa didn’t know better, he would have said there was a faint blush coloring Axel’s cheeks.  “The other box has a pair of shoes I thought you’d like, by the way.”

“Thank you, Axel,” Isa said earnestly, clutching the fabric in his hands.  “Truly. This was kind of you.”

“Kinder to me,” Axel said with a crooked smile, ruffling his own hair.  “You’ll look better in this than in whatever it is you’re wearing now. What is it anyway, old flour sacks?”

“Aeleus’,” Isa replied, the corners of his mouth quirking upwards.  

Axel waved his hand at Isa, grabbing the half-eaten ice cream from his hand and taking an unrepentant bite.  “Well then? Go change.”  

Unphased by the loss of his dessert, Isa stood, unable to wipe a small smile from his lips.  It felt like old times, and even if it wouldn’t last, it was better than nothing.  

He slipped away into the bedroom, box under his arm, and re-dressed himself.  Drawing himself up in front of the mirror, he adjusted his collar. It fit perfectly.  It felt good. And, best of all, it was from Axel.

“Looks good,” Axel said, grinning coyly.  “I knew you’d like it. You can call me the king of fashion, if you’d like.”

“I’ll do no such thing,” Isa scoffed, taking a seat beside Axel again.  “But I do really like them. Thank you.”

“No problem,” Axel said with a yawn, stretching his arm out along the top of the sofa.  His hand brushed against Isa’s shoulder, the fingertips lightly resting there. The touch made Isa involuntarily stiffen.  He suddenly wished he had a glass of water.

“Axel,” he said, the name sweet on his lips.  “Why are you doing this for me?”

“We’re friends,” Axel said with a shrug, his knee bouncing slightly.  “Friends have each other’s backs.”

Isa stared down at his hands.  He could almost see the filth of  Saïx’s deeds on them.  “Friends, huh,” he said softly, balling his hands into fists.  “Some friend I am.”

Axel straightened himself out, leaning forward onto his knees.  “I could say the same of myself,” he said slowly, “But I don’t. It doesn’t do anyone any good.”

“Wouldn’t it have been better if I hadn’t come back?” Isa blurted out, fists clenched.  “We wouldn’t have had to worry about any of this.”

“I wouldn’t have stopped looking for you.”  Axel had gripped his shoulder and was looking at him with those piercing green eyes.  Isa realized that his own were wet. “I always get my friends back.”  

_ That word again.   _ Isa knew that if he spoke, his voice would crack, and that was the last thing he needed right now, so he remained quiet, his gaze averted.  Axel just stayed there, his hand lingering for a moment on Isa’s shoulder before falling away.

At length, Axel spoke.  “Do you miss him?” 

Isa’s neck almost snapped with how quickly he turned to look at Axel.  He couldn’t think of a  _ single  _ person he missed from their old life.  “Who?”

“You know,” Axel said, squirming uncomfortably.  “Xemnas.”

Isa’s mouth gaped.  “Why on  _ earth  _ would you think that I—why are you even  _ asking?  _  Of  _ course _ not.”

Axel shrugged, but it looked like a burden had visibly been lifted from his shoulders.  “I don’t know. I mean, after I left, I wondered if the thing between you had… I don’t know, what’s the word?  Blossomed?”

Isa had to laugh.  It was all so  _ silly.   _ “No,” he said firmly.  “It most certainly did not.”

“Then,” Axel ventured, running a hand through his hair in a way Isa recognized as a nervous tic.  “Well. Okay.”

Things unsaid hung in the air almost tangibly, and Isa’s knuckles had long since turned white.  Swallowing deeply, Isa spoke at last. “Is there something else you wanted to say?”

“Yeah,” Axel said, sounding steeled.  “This.”

With that, he kissed Isa, the taste of sea salt ice cream on his lips.


End file.
